The Burbs and the Bees Page 10

  She holds her hand up to stop me. “None of my business.” With her chin tipped, she exhales softly, and her sweet breath washes over me. The pink flush on her cheeks deepens. “I have a tendency to put my foot in it.”

  “As long as you don’t put it in the manure, you’re good.”

  She chuckles, and it strokes my dick.

  Down, boy.

  “Truce?” she says, with a cock of her head. Her hair spills from the clip holding it haphazardly on the top of her head, and I resist the urge to run my fingers through it.

  “Truce,” I agree. If she knew I was betting against her, she probably wouldn’t be so fast to call a cease-fire. Nope, she’d probably go straight for the sheep shears.

  I wouldn’t blame her.

  She shifts slightly, and her eyes go wide. I turn to find everyone watching us, and I square my shoulders. Great, I’m never going to hear the end of this.

  “I guess I better get going,” she says and stifles a yawn. “Six o’clock comes early around these parts.”

  “Six o’clock comes early everywhere,” I say.

  “True, but in New York, I don’t have a rooster around to announce it.” She hesitates for a moment and says, “Night, Jay.”

  “Don’t forget to lock the animals in tonight. You don’t want the coyote prowling around, and be sure to put that salve on your stings.”

  “Right,” she says and turns to go. With my gaze latched onto her back, she heads down the sidewalk toward her car. I turn, and when I do, the guys are all grinning at me.

  “Leave it,” I grumble.

  “Like fuck,” Jaxon says.

  “You tapping that or what?” Mason asks.

  I rake my hands through my hair. I know the guys care about me—we all go way back—but I’m not in the mood for their shit tonight. “No.”

  “Then why the fuck is she in your clothes?” Mason shoots back.

  “Hers got lost on the way here and she hasn’t had time to shop. I was just being neighborly.”

  “Neighborly, huh? That’s what we call fucking these days?” Matt asks.

  “I am not fucking her. Not now. Not ever.”

  “Dibs,” Patrick pipes in.

  “No one here has dibs,” I counter. “She’s a woman, not the last piece of pie, and you damn well better treat her with respect.”

  Patrick holds his hands up, palms out. “Whoa, sounds like someone already called dibs.”

  I glare at him. “Leave it. She’s my neighbor, not yours,” I say, suddenly all territorial.

  “Fine, you need to get laid more than any of us, anyway,” Jaxon says.

  They’re not wrong.

  “How about that cold one?” I say to Colin.

  “Let’s go, guys. Hopefully Jay’s new girl”—I throw a death glare his way and he laughs—“I mean Jay’s new neighbor will help us nail down a routine.”

  “Funny, Colin. Really funny.”

  He rolls his hand and leans forward like he’s taking a bow. “I’m here all week.” His antics pull a smile from me.

  I throw my arm around him. “Does Sara have any idea what she’s getting herself into?”

  We step outside, and the sun is low on the horizon as we walk down the block to the pub. Farmington is pretty much a one-street town. Everything you need can be found here, and everyone you meet knows your business. I just hope the wager I made with Charlie Miller doesn’t get out. Alyson and I called a truce, and there is no need for her to know I bet against her before she leaves here and returns to New York, where she belongs. She’d be pretty sad and upset if she knew, and well, I just don’t want that.

  We step into the Crow, and music blares. The place is busy for a Sunday night, but there’s not much to do around this town so everyone convenes at the local pub. I play a few games of pool with the guys and nurse a beer, but I’m distracted, worried about Alyson’s animals when a coyote is in the vicinity.

  “What’s the matter with you?” Colin asks. “You worried about…you know,” he says, not wanting to say the “bet” out loud.

  “No, why are you?” I ask, a measure of panic invading my gut, even though I’m trying hard not to show it.

  “Nope,” he says, but he doesn’t seem as convinced as he was the other night. Shit, I hope it wasn’t the beer talking when he swayed me, and I pray I didn’t make a big mistake. “She’s as good as gone,” he says, a little more conviction in his voice.

  “Yeah, you’re right.”

  “You’re good then?”

  “Just tired.”

  “That’s what we’re calling needing to get laid. Angie has been eyeing you.”

  I glance at the server. “Colin—”

  “Fine then. Go home. Get some rest, buddy.”

  “Yeah, I’d better get going. There’s a coyote around, and Alyson has no idea how to deal with it. I should probably check in on her.” Colin gives me a knowing grin as I hang up my pool cue and head outside. Darkness falls over the town as I hop into my truck and head back home. I slow down as I drive past Alyson’s, expecting to see all the lights off, but her market is lit up like a Christmas tree. Shit. I try to drive past, I really do, but I think my truck has a mind of its own. I ease into her driveway and slam it into park.

  My feet hit soft ground as I slide from the cab and make my way to the market. I push through the door and glance around.

  “Alyson, you here?”

  No answer, but the scent of ginger hits me, and I head toward the kitchen, only to find it empty. I’m about to leave when I spot the pot on the stove and the burner on.

  “Shit.” I remove the lid and grab the wooden spoon to give the thick, nearly burnt liquid a stir. Alyson made squash soup? Nice, but leaving it to burn on the stove, in a century-old barn that’s as dry as the Sahara Desert, might not be her smartest move. Where the hell is she?

  I shut the burner down and remove the pot, then go out back in search of Alyson, using my phone flashlight for illumination.

  “Alyson,” I call again, and far in the distance I hear her faint voice calling back. “What the hell is she doing?” I walk the orchard and check on the animals. The only one missing from the barn is Sidney. Shit, she’s probably trying to round her up and get her back. The damn cow can be ornery at times. I make my way out to the pasture, and night sounds fall around me. By the time I reach the back fence, Alyson’s soft curses reach my ear.

  “What are you doing?” I ask, when I spot her pushing on Sid’s ass.

  “What does it look like I’m doing?” I shine my light her way, and she winces as she lifts her head. I jerk the light away, and a laugh rumbles in my throat.

  “What’s so funny?” she blurts out.

  “You’re wearing night-vision goggles.”

  “It’s night, isn’t it?” She mumbles something about calling me clever earlier and wanting to take it back.

  “Where did you find those?”

  “Jack’s shed. It’s a treasure trove in there.” She grunts. “Are you just going to stand there, or are you going to help?”

  I kick at the grass. “I guess I should have told you.”

  “Told me what?” She gives up pushing and wipes her forehead with the back of her hand.

  “Can you take those off?”

  She removes the night-vision goggles. “Told me what?”

  “Cowbell. She’ll follow it.”

  She exhales a frustrated sigh.

  “Sorry,” I say.

  “Where might I find this cowbell?”

  “In her barn. If you wait here, I can get it.”

  She glances over her shoulder. “Did you hear that?”

  “Hear what?”

  “I thought I heard voices.”

  I listen for a second. “I don’t hear anything.”

  “Okay, hur
ry please. It’s kind of creepy out here.”

  I jog to the barn, grab the cowbell, and race back to Alyson. I shake the bell in front of Sid, and she starts moving toward it. Alyson jogs to catch up to me.

  She gives me a sidelong glance. “Funny you left that little bit of information out.”

  “You saying I did it on purpose?”

  “It’s not like you want me here,” she says with a huff.

  My gut clenches. “We called a truce, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I really did forget, Alyson.”

  “Okay,” she says so quietly, with such defeat in her voice, my heart thumps. I steal a glance at her and once again resist the urge to pull her into my arms and tell her everything will be okay.

  “You found Jack’s shed?” I ask, switching subjects.

  “Yeah, and it’s packed with the weirdest things.”

  “Did you see the head in the jar?”

  She stops walking. “What the hell?”

  I laugh. “Every year, he does a haunted house in the orchard. People come all the way from the city.”

  “No way?”

  “Yup. The kids are really going to miss it this year.”

  “Why do they have to miss it?”

  “Ah, Jack is gone, remember?”

  “I can do it.”

  “Oh, right,” I say, not believing she’ll still be here then, and her face falls at my lack of faith in her. Her sadness is like a kick to the nut sack, and I sort of hate myself right now. She opens her mouth like she’s going to say something, then closes it like she’s changed her mind, her eyes defeated. “He does weddings in the vineyard, too.”

  Her face lifts. “I have a vineyard?”

  “Not a big one. Jack grew the grapes for himself. He was a vintner, and his wine was strong.” I tip my fingers to my lips and make a face like I swallowed something nasty. “You haven’t come across the grapevines yet?”

  “No, but I think that’s awesome he did weddings.”

  “Colin was going to have his wedding here, but…”

  She frowns. “Is it too late?”

  “They already secured another venue at another vineyard.”

  “Darn.” She stares at the ground, hay crunching beneath her feet as she keeps pace with me. “I would love to see a wedding here.”

  “Probably won’t happen this year, and next year, well…” Her entire body stiffens, and I switch topics again. “By the way, I stopped in the barn and saved your squash soup from an untimely death.”

  She slaps her hand to her forehead. “Ohmigod, I forgot all about it. I was cooking, thought I heard a noise, and ran out back. That’s when I remembered the coyote and the animals. I assumed I’d only be a few minutes. That’s all it would have been if Sidney hadn’t dug her heels in.” She gives a slow shake of her head. “It’s hard to believe just last week I was shopping on Fifth Avenue, and now I’m the proud owner of a stubborn cow.”

  “You could always tip her, show her who’s boss,” I tease and give her a little nudge. Electricity sizzles through me.

  “Tip her. Why would I do that? That sounds mean.”

  I smile, liking that she’s so thoughtful of the animals and probably doesn’t have a mean bone in her body. “I’m kidding. Cow tipping is an urban legend. Something bored kids supposedly do.”

  “That’s awful, and it had better be an urban legend, or there’ll be hell to pay if they come near Sidney.”

  “Like I said, you’re tough.” I give her chin a nudge, and she lifts her head a little. “I think she misses Jack. Cows are very social.”

  She tilts her head and stares at the star-studded sky. “I didn’t know that.”

  Sucking sounds fill the air as our boots sink into the mud, and we pull them out again. We make it to the barn, and I settle Sidney and lock up behind us.

  “What’s with Barack O’Llama anyway?” she asks. “I don’t know much about llamas, but he seems a bit too friendly.”

  I laugh at that. “You’re right. He is, and Tyler has a few love marks to corroborate that.”

  She shakes her head, her lips twitching at the corners. “A llama who swings both ways. I can now officially say I’ve seen it all.”

  I lean against the barn door and look her over. Her shoulders are a bit droopy, and her hair is a mess of waves around her face. She’s tired and has every right to be. “You okay?”

  She forces a smile. “Fine, just a little worn out.”

  “You know you don’t have to—”

  Her entire body stiffens. “I get it. You think I’ll be gone soon, but say it one more time, Jay. I found a strange piece of castration equipment in the barn that I’m not afraid to use.”

  “Okay, okay,” I say and push off the door and cover my nuts, but it doesn’t make her laugh. Instead she frowns, and her head falls forward.

  “I’m not a quitter. Okay, well, I am a quitter and that’s why I’m here,” she says under her breath.

  “What?”

  She shakes her head quickly. “Nothing.”

  I eye her for a minute and tally what I’ve learned so far. She’s a quitter who has no idea what she was born to do. Interesting. Wait, what does she mean I think she’ll be gone soon? She told me she would be lucky to make it a night.

  It’s been two nights, dude.

  Shit.

  But I can’t be worried. Everyone in this town knows she’ll be running home soon enough. Even my mother agreed.

  “How did you know it was castration equipment anyway?”

  “Google.”

  “Of course.” I nudge her to set her into motion. “Come on, I’ll help you get your soup in the fridge. It smells delicious, by the way.” It’s admirable that she’s not afraid to jump in and give it her all.

  Her body relaxes. “I found a recipe book in the kitchen and thought I’d give it a try.” This time her smile is genuine and reaches her eyes. “I also found Cindy’s number. She starts tomorrow.”

  I nod. “How about the bee stings? Headache? Pain?”

  “Not too bad.” We step into the market and as we walk to the kitchen in the back, she fidgets a bit. “I put the salve on but couldn’t get the stings on my back. Those bees really did a number on me.” She frowns. “Is it true that honeybees die after they sting?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’m sorry,” she says and crinkles up her nose. “Can I replace them or something?”

  “Thank you, but it’s okay. My hive is very healthy.”

  “Still, I feel bad that I killed them.”

  “I know you do.” I spot the tub of salve on the kitchen counter. “Come here. I’ll get the spots on your back for you.”

  “I suppose that would be a good idea. Thanks.”

  “Lift your shirt,” I say.

  She grabs the hem, and I drop down onto the stool and touch her hip to tug her closer. She backs up toward me, and I dip my finger into the salve. “This is going to be cold.”

  “Then it will feel good against my back.”

  “Are you hot?” I touch her soft skin, and she visibly quivers.

  “I worked up a sweat trying to move, Sid,” she says. That might be the reason her body is hot, but what’s my excuse?

  Like I seriously have to ask.

  “How did you get into bees anyway?” she asks.

  “They are the world’s most important pollinator of food crops, and since crops are important to me, I started an apiary. I’ve only been at it a couple years, actually. I really enjoy it. I could show you how it all works sometime if you like.”

  “Ah, getting molested by a swarm once is quite enough for me, thank you very much.”

  I laugh. “I know, but I have suits that protect you. We could get you a fresh honeycomb. Nothing tastes as good, and it has he
alth benefits.”

  “I wouldn’t get stung?”

  “I wouldn’t intentionally put you in danger.”

  “Unintentionally, however… But honeycomb. Yum.” She glances at me over her shoulder, and her eyes light up. “Can I get a big one, all for me?”

  I chuckle. “If that’s what you want.”

  “I do like honey.”

  “I’ll get you one big enough to put you in a food coma.”

  “Well, then…”

  “That’s a yes?”

  “When you sell it like that, how can it not be a yes?” She glances away for a moment, deep in thought, and says, “I think I might like to see the apiary in action. See how it all actually works.”

  “You like learning new things, huh?”

  “I never really thought I did.” She goes quiet again.

  With that strange answer, I lightly rub the salve onto her sores, using slow, small circles that send my thoughts off in a direction they have no right going. I work to marshal my cock, and I’m proud of my restraint, proud that I have full control over myself—until a soft, sexy moan escapes her throat.

  Fuck me.

  Walk away, Jay. Get the hell out of Dodge.

  I swallow. “Done here. Do you…ah, want me to check on the other spots?” I ask.

  She turns to me, her eyes wide, dilated, and she wets her bottom lip, like she’s preparing it for my mouth. My gaze drops, and my control frays like the cuff on an old pair of worn coveralls.

  “Alyson.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Your lips… Are they still sore?”

  “Only a little.”

  I dip into the salve and brush it across her bottom lip, then run my thumb over my own to taste the remnants of her. Unable to fight the pull, I move toward her, her breathy little whimper curling around me. Heat arcs between us, and I tug her closer, position her between my thighs. I’m seconds from kissing her, from making a huge mistake, when a loud boom sounds in the distance. I jerk back and glance out the window to see fireworks in the distance.

  “Fucking Tyler.”

  I take a fast breath, and with oxygen back in my brain, I realize Tyler interfering was for the best. Why, then, do I want to hunt him down and strangle him?

  Chapter Nine